Malaise
by MagentaElbows
Summary: Magenta reflects on a hopeless situation. Riff plots. A bit dark.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Richard O'Brien owns all, I own very little, I just play with them a little bit.

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She didn't know what she was doing there.

This place was not what she wanted. Nothing made sense. It was too bright. It smelled funny. The odd vehicles that everyone drove emitted noxious gases that filled her nostrils and burned her eyes.

Not that she ever went outside, not even in the yard. It just wasn't safe, and, besides, she didn't want to see any of the landscape that reminded her of how far from home she was.

He had promised – once – that their stay would be a short one. To learn from a different environment, to understand this society. Science, it was all for science. Or it had been, once.

Laughing a bit, she rolled over to her side. Had he really had such noble intentions? Honestly, did she believe it?

No. Of course not.

But…she had wanted to come. And not for the improvement of her own world, for purely selfish reasons. "Selfish," she muttered. "Silly girl. It's your own fault. You knew what would happen."

She had known, when they'd left, that there was a great chance they would never return. But she had wanted so much to believe the prince when he'd promised. Because she had wanted the anonymity of another world, a place to escape to when her own – even as it was – was so critical of what she wanted.

Back before they had left, she and her brother had discussed what they might do after their shift with the prince was over. He had even mentioned, perhaps, they could stay on Earth while the prince went back home. After all, no one knew them here, and they could start a new life away from suspicious glances. She had readily agreed that it was a possibility, not suspecting that Earth would be such complete _hell_.

It was too _hard_. With every passing year that she was away from Transylvania, she felt herself growing stranger, more disconnected. She didn't know what was happening in her homeland, and she didn't know what was happening to herself. The distance between the two frightened her. More than once she had seriously considered sneaking into the control room – but her fear of the repercussions outweighed her desire to contact her friends. The prince always seemed to know when they had done something wrong, broken one of his rules.

Well…

"He doesn't know _all_," she smirked, confident that her biggest secret was still kept. Then her smiled clouded over as she remembered how close she had come to letting it out just a short while before.

She thought she should really clean up a bit. He could arrive at any minute – work was over for the day. Even in the midst of her depression, she worried that the sight of her as she was right then would hurt him. He had so much to worry about already; she didn't want to worsen it.

Slowly, she stretched her arms and legs, wincing at the soreness in her lower half. Damn him. She hated him. She curled into a vaguely upright position, kneeling on the black sheets. She was so tired, she just wanted to sleep. Emptiness threatened to envelop her.

No, she couldn't do that, couldn't let that happen. No matter what, no matter how she hated the prince and the empty feeling he left her with, she wouldn't succumb to it. She wouldn't leave her brother all alone.

It was getting worse. Today she had almost broken. He had pushed into her before she was ready, but the pain, as always, was overcome by false pleasure. "And damn him for that, too!" she spoke aloud. It was wrong to feel pleasure with the prince, who she loathed so. But she couldn't help it – the man knew what he was doing. She had come so close this time to screaming her brother's name, even opened her mouth to utter the first syllable –

"R –"

and then quickly closed it, jammed a hand on top of her lips, eyes wide and terrified as she climaxed, horrified at herself for losing control. The prince had never even noticed, leaving as soon as he had finished. The darkness had crept over her as she lay stricken on the bed, and she couldn't bring herself to move, not even to cover herself with the dress that was crumpled on the floor.

"I must go back," she whispered, over and over again. "I must go back, I must go back." She was losing herself here; she wasn't the same happy girl she'd been when they'd first arrived.

There was a soft knock on the door, and it opened before she had a chance to hide her current appearance. She didn't care anymore. She heard him curse and repeated the word, chuckling softly. Then the door shut and locked, footsteps, and finally, finally, he was beside her, wrapping her in his arms. She sighed, uncurled, and let the tears fall.

He said nothing, keeping her tightly embraced, stroking her smooth arm and gently kissing her wild mane of red hair. When her sobs finally died out, he tilted her chin up so her eyes could meet his. "'Genta."

She breathed out in ecstasy, reveling in the sound of his voice as it wrapped around his pet name for her. "Riff."

"This is not forever, my most beautiful sister. Very soon, we will be home."

She wanted to believe him, knew it would make him happy if she did. "I know." She couldn't believe it, not really. Such an empty promise, so full of a hope that could not come to fruition.

His hand reached up to caress her cheek. "I know you don't believe me. I understand. But this time it is true." He leaned closer to her, a smile beginning to form on his lips. "I have a plan."

Yes. Of course he had a plan, he always did. By now she understood that his "plans" were make-believe. They were something comforting for him to say when she felt so upset. A kind word for his little sister, very much like their special signal – full of good intentions, lacking in anything concrete. Sometimes she just wanted to reach up and shake him, force him to admit that there was no plan. Why would there be? The prince _liked_ him – _Riff_ was never attacked in the middle of the night. He didn't have to mop and wash and serve like a common slave. He was the prince's Laboratory Assistant, because he was intelligent and had earned top grades at his university, where as she, Magenta, had not been able to finish grammar school. But she wasn't stupid. She understood that they were going to stay on Earth for a very long time. She just wished he would admit it.

But she smiled and kissed him, like she knew he wanted. Tonight she would let herself be pacified by his words and by the touch of his hands and arms as they raised them together. Tonight she would succumb to his sensual kisses. They would join in a blissful passion between the sheets, and she would forget all of her problems and all her bad memories of the prince. That was how it always worked.

Tomorrow would be the same as ever.

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A/N: This is actually the very first Rocky Horror story I'd ever written, more than two years ago. I'm reexamining it. There's at least one more chapter, maybe two. Please review and let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

He was sorry that she never believed him. Most of the time, granted, there was no reason to, but _this time_ it was true. He _did_ have a plan, and he was going to get them off the planet even if they both died in the process.

He figured they would probably be killed anyway upon their return. No matter how clever he was (and he was clever, very, very clever), how carefully planned the "accident" was, the Queen was vengeful. And they were servants – no one would notice if they faced the execution squad. They had no family, no friends left. All they had was each other.

And it was for that reason that he knew he would have to avenge his sister and free them both at any price. If they died doing it, so much the better. In death they would be able to be together without the disapproving scrutiny that life afforded them.

She had always been like an open book to him, easy to read, every thought scrawled across her face. Magenta hated it: she prided herself on her stoicism. He, in turn, prided himself on his abilities to see past the blankness of her face to the powerful emotions within. He found it almost amusing that she couldn't do the same for him. She took his expressions and words at face value, accepting that he had accepted their fate with the prince.

Even the scars from the whip that marred his back she had learned to ignore. The first night he had disrobed, wincing as his jacket pulled at the torn flesh, she had audibly gasped and he had turned to see her eyes wide and frightened. He had remained mute to her questions until she'd calmed down and then had quietly asked her to clean and dress the wounds. That night had set the pattern for the next time, and the next, that he had come to bed bleeding, and it was now an unquestioned routine.

He hid the pain of the lashings. He hid the pain of the knowledge that the prince could – and did – fuck Magenta whenever he chose. He hid so well that Magenta now believed that he was content to be perfectly loyal and subservient to the prince, when in reality he was wound so tightly that he felt he might snap at any minute.

She didn't know that, and she didn't know the reason for his slavish obedience to the prince. She didn't know that the prince _knew_, and had known for years. In her mind, their secret was simple to keep. In the castle, with such close quarters, it had actually proved fairly difficult.

It was out now, and he had to live with seeing his sister seduced several times a month. He knew she didn't go willingly, but (as she would explain to him later) it was difficult to resist once the prince started the ball rolling. Every time, the depression she felt in the aftermath of the act seemed to be worse, and he was beginning to worry about her mental health. At the start, she'd merely been angry, not as beaten down as she now seemed.

_He knocked at the door, but there was no answer. It was unlocked so he pushed it open. "Magenta?"_

"_I'm in the bath," came the darkly accented voice of his sister. He smiled and locked the door behind him before moving to the adjoining bathroom._

_Even after all the years they'd spent together, he was still surprised at how strongly the sight of her affected him. She was reclining in the tub, mostly covered by soap bubbles, her pale face and vibrant hair floating disembodied above the surface of the water. Her eyes were shut and did not open when he entered the room. That was odd._

_Her face seemed set in a harsh position, as if she were trying not to allow herself any expression and finding it more difficult than usual. Something was wrong. "Magenta?"_

"_What." The red mouth opened and shut stiffly, the words toneless._

"_Is something the matter?"_

"_No. I am relaxing."_

_He would have laughed at the obvious lie if he hadn't been concerned. Usually she was in bed by the time he was released from his duties – her work was simple routine and she finished long before he could. He wondered how long she had been soaking. "Are you coming to bed soon?" he ventured._

_Finally, her eyes opened. She glanced at him for a second before closing them again and coldly responding, "Not just yet."_

_This was all getting a bit frustrating. "Not very talkative this evening, are we?" he threw at her as he walked back into the main room and began to undress. _

"_You're late tonight, Riff."_

_Was _that_ why she was annoyed? "Yes. The Master asked me to stay in the lab to finish the experiment alone." He rolled his eyes as he stripped off his shirt. "Apparently he was too tired to stick around and help. It took longer than it should have." There was more silence from the bath. He poked his head around the door to see her, still in the same unmoving position. "I'm sorry if I kept you waiting."_

_She seemed to consider his words for a few moments, before remarking, almost conversationally, "I don't care for the prince." _

_Riff chuckled. "Nor do I."_

"_But, of course, that doesn't really matter, does it?"_

"_No."_

"_No," she agreed. "It's not as if you really have to care about someone to fuck them, is it?"_

_He froze, his breath stuck in his throat. She seemed to catch his sudden tension, for she opened her eyes and glared at him. "It's not as if he asked _permission_, Riff. You know I wouldn't have done that."_

"_I…I know."_

"_Don't be upset." Her voice was beginning to sound worried as she sat up straighter to see clearly enough that he was _very_ upset. His hands were clenching into fists and he could feel his temples beginning to throb. In a minute he would go and do something very foolish. He recognized this as a bad idea and ignored it, beginning to plan exactly how he would murder the prince. _

_Riff turned abruptly and head for the door. "I'll be back."_

"_Riff!" Magenta's voice was panicked now, realizing what he was thinking. "It's really not worth it, Riff."_

_This one statement was enough to set off his rage. "Not _worth_ it? How can you say that? You value yourself so cheaply?" He shook with anger and moved away, suddenly unable to look at her. "I think it would be worth it a hundred times over, sister, to end his life. I will spill the blood of the creature who raped my own flesh and blood, and any punishment wi –"_

"_It wasn't rape, brother."_

_By this time he was back in the main room, his hand on the door, and he turned slowly to see she had followed him. She stood, unabashedly naked and dripping wet. He searched her eyes, desperately trying to find a hint of shame at what she'd done, but saw only anger. "Explain."_

_She now looked as if she wanted to kill him. "I didn't seek him out. But I…_enjoyed _it. Is that what you wanted to hear?"_

_It was most certainly not what he wanted to hear. He wasn't sure if he wouldn't have preferred a rape to this new turn of events. At least with that there would have been a proper recourse, and legal revenge. He felt his shoulders slumping and heard her approach. Silently, she embraced him, bare chest to his bare back. He seized her hands, squeezing them as tightly as he could, wishing there was a way to undo the past few hours._

_Magenta buried her face between his shoulder blades, pressing her lips to the knobs of his spine. "I hate him," she clarified, speaking the harsh sounds into his very body. "But I won't lose you to hurt him."_

_The truth of her words reached him slowly, dulled as he was by his anger. Eventually he nodded and released her hands. With a relieved sigh, she moved away, back to the bathroom to dry herself._

So he hadn't killed the prince that night. She'd asked him to stay with her, and he could never refuse her such a request. In the morning, once his anger had mostly subsided and he could think more rationally, he knew that an unplanned murder was a terrible idea. Even on Earth the eyes of the royal court were on them. He wouldn't abandon his sister by getting arrested.

Not that he wasn't tempted the very next day in the laboratory. As soon as he saw Frank, his anger had risen anew, and it had taken all of his willpower to avoid strangling him with his bare hands. Instead, he had focused his full attention on the day's calculations. Science was a much easier subject than revenge.

He caught Frank looking at him a few times, as if daring him to say something about Magenta. But that was just his frazzled brain imposing its own paranoid thoughts. Frank would have no reason to expect him to be upset about what had happened. Sex between housemates was normal, expected even, given the relative seclusion they lived in. He reminded himself of this, and then in turn cursed himself for not having seen it coming.

Riff was allowed an hour for lunch, which he spent with his sister. She was quieter than usual, refusing to speak of anything of substance; instead she dragged him up to her room for a quick roll in the hay. He returned to the lab sated and almost happy in the afterglow, but his pleasant feelings evaporated as soon as he saw Frank waiting for him with a smirk on his face.

"Did you have a nice lunch?"

"Yes," Riff muttered guardedly. He headed for his worktable, but the prince didn't seem to be in any hurry to begin.

"Funny," he mused," but I didn't see either you or Magenta in the kitchen."

He answered carefully. "She had a headache. I brought her some food upstairs and sat with her."

"Hmm. Is she feeling better now?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Is she feeling better than she was last night?" The prince said it in a perfectly casual way, but Riff nearly dropped the beaker he was holding. What had he meant by that? He chose to remain silent, but Frank had crossed the room and now stood at the other end of the table, only a few feet from him. "I ask you, Riff Raff, did you make your _sister_ feel _much better_?"

The servant's eyes slowly rose to meet his master's. "I'm sure I don't understand what you mean…Master."

"I suppose it's not important." Frank shrugged nonchalantly. "I just thought that perhaps her headache was caused by a…lack of sleep." He paused, hand on his chin in a mock-pensive expression. "Or maybe it's from all the screaming she did last night…"

"You bastard!" Riff instinctively reared back to punch him, but Frank simply stepped away.

"Temper, Riff Raff. There's no need to get all worked up on account of your sister – _she_ certainly didn't. Besides, as I said, I'm sure she feels better now." He raised an eyebrow. "I know I've always found the best cure for a headache to be a good afternoon fuck."

Riff's mind was racing. How the hell had he figured it out? What was going to happen? He had to deny it. "I don't – "

"Don't bother. I know all about you two and I find it fairly sickening. You're worse than the trash you're named for." Frank fixed the dumbstruck man with a piercing glare. "Now, you know perfectly well how incest is regarded on our planet."

"It's not illegal. The Sexual Freedoms Act –"

Frank laughed. "Don't give me that. Legal or no, you know how society views it. Do you really think either of you would ever work again if word got out?" He accurately interpreted Riff's silence as a resounding "No." "Well, then, I suppose you are at my mercy."

Gritting his teeth, Riff bowed. "Magenta and I have always owed a great debt to your royal family. We have served you willing both here and at home."

"Yes, up until now you have worked for me as a highly paid lab assistant. Your sister, despite having no discernible domestic skills, has been paid the normal salary for a trained domestic. I no longer think this necessary. And you will now be known as a 'handyman'."

His fists clenched and he cursed inwardly. Frank had effectively demoted them to the lowest ranks of servants – practically slaves. No choice was left to him but to nod in agreement.

"Wonderful. I'm glad we're on the same page. Now, of course as my servants you would never think of disobeying an order, but if there is any insubordination I will no longer think you two above physical punishment." He made as if to leave, and then turned back. "Oh, and Riff Raff?"

"What else, Master?"

"I will look the other way from what you and Magenta do behind closed doors – though it disgusts me. But it won't continue when we return to Transsexual. I won't have my planet tainted with your sickness. You will make your home somewhere else in the galaxy or I will not keep your secret."

Riff's heart sank. The one thing that kept him and Magenta sane on this forsaken Earth was the knowledge that they would one day return to their homeland. Now it seemed that even that was to be taken from them.

"One last thing, Riff Raff." The prince was smirking slightly. "I expect Magenta to be made available to me whenever I require her."

And since then, Riff had kept his rage bottled up inside him. He did not sneer when he saw the elaborately made-up face, but affected a look of bland nonchalance. He played the role of a devoted servant perfectly, if dispassionately. All of his scientific genius was put toward the frivolous creation of a sex toy for the greedy prince.

But he never forgot the hate and he never stopped feeling the anger.

Magenta now believed his lies. She thought he was comfortable with their lot. She didn't know that the tides had turned and their best-kept secret was no longer a secret. She didn't know that the prince now had enough information to blackmail them for the rest of their lives, nor did she know that when Frank came to her bed it was a punishment for their indiscretion.

Riff doubted they would return to Transylvania anytime in the near future. The prince enjoyed Earth too much, and it was very convenient for him to have Riff and Magenta as his personal slaves. That was why he had to take control of the situation himself.

And he vowed that Frank would die by his hands, to repay him for what he had taken from the siblings. And when they finally returned to their beloved planet, they would be free once more.

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A/N: This is it for this story! Please read and review!


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